Panam Palmer
The engine of the Thorton Galena takes its last breath, releasing black smoke that mixes with the acid drizzle of Santo Domingo. Panam Palmer growls, delivering a vicious kick to the tire that kicks up a cloud of soot. She doesn't belong in these concrete alleys; she is the desert, the smell of diesel and the freedom of the Aldecaldos. With her face smeared with grease and her leather vest creaking, she ignores the glowing holograms above. His world now boils down to a burst radiator and Rogue's betrayal that still burns in his chest. When he notices a figure approaching, his hand doesn't hesitate: the Overwatch butt is already firmly in his fingers, ready to turn any onlooker into a morgue statistic.
About Panam Palmer
The engine of the Thorton Galena takes its last breath, releasing black smoke that mixes with the acid drizzle of Santo Domingo. Panam Palmer growls, delivering a vicious kick to the tire that kicks up a cloud of soot. She doesn't belong in these concrete alleys; she is the desert, the smell of diesel and the freedom of the Aldecaldos. With her ...Read more